


The Treasure That Hides Behind Your Walls

by Aura0190



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Falling In Love, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geraskier, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Self Confidence Issues, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aura0190/pseuds/Aura0190
Summary: Geralt falls in love with Jaskier, but he's afraid of being rejected by him because of his non human attributes. So he tries to hide them, only he's not being too successful at it and when that happens Jaskier doesn't look at him any differently. It's a slow process of him realizing his bard won't turn him away and that he in fact, is very much loved back.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 88
Collections: Geraskier Holiday Exchange 2020





	The Treasure That Hides Behind Your Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sevent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevent/gifts).



> Happy holidays! This is my gift for [Sevent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevent/pseuds/Sevent) . 
> 
> I hope you like it. I originally was planning on just doing fanart but then I began writing a little something and here we are (⌒▽⌒)''   
> This is my first time gifting a story, please forgive any grammar mistakes since English is not my first language. Have a great day!

It dawned on him on a misty morning, five weeks after having met the bard, that this was the longest he had ever traveled with a human. His only traveling companions before that had been other witchers, his brothers in arms with whom he didn’t need to keep his guard up.

Now here was a young man, cheerful, loud, and so very, very human….

Geralt was sure he wouldn’t last a day on The Path, but Jaskier proved him wrong. He was more resilient than he looked, even if he complained nonstop about it all.

It took some getting used to at first, to travel with someone. But the exasperating presence of the bard quickly began to turn into something of a comfort. He wouldn’t go as far as calling them friends, but he will reluctantly admit that he’s grown attached to the young man. Which is why he’s now worried about him leaving.

Jaskier has been nothing but eager to learn everything about monster hunting and witchers, and he hasn’t been scared of him one second since they met, but it’s only a matter of time before he realizes just how unhuman Geralt really is.

Sure, there are obvious things; his white hair, his yellow cat-like eyes, his sharp nails… but those are only superficial traits. The truth is Geralt works very hard to keep up as normal a façade as he can and holds back any “odd behaviors” that could make folks uncomfortable.

He’s never truly at ease until he’s back at Kaer Morhen with his brothers, the only ones who understand and share some of his traits. Mages and sorceresses are less likely to be bothered, but still…

Acting is a familiar thing now, easy to keep up for the limited interactions he must endure to do his job. But it’s a whole different thing to keep up that charade while traveling with someone for such long periods of time. Especially when that someone is painfully aware of your every action in a way only a singing troubadour using you as inspiration would be.

Things start slipping out of his control little by little…

“Really Geralt, I can keep going for another hour! There’s no need to set up camp this early,” Jaskier protests one day, as they climb up a mountain pass.

“Not everything is about you, Jaskier. There’s a storm coming our way,” Geralt replies, setting up their tent and making a mental note about urging the bard to buy his own.

“What?! No way! It’s still sunny and surely those clouds are not storm material,” Jaskier argues looking up at the sky, one hand covering his eyes from the sun and the other clutching the strap of his lute.

“I can smell it in the air. It’s already raining on the other side of the mountain,” Geralt replies without thinking.

“You can… smell it?” Jaskier asks, turning to look at him.

And Geralt freezes, suddenly aware that’s not something normal people can do. He avoids looking at Jaskier in the eye and grunts in response, continuing his work.

“Oh, that’s useful,” Jaskier says with a cheerful tone and Geralt sighs in relief.

Fifteen minutes later, when they’re both cramped in the tent as the rain and thunder rage outside, Jaskier leans his head on Geralt’s shoulder.

“Fair enough. You were right, my Witcher,” he says.

Geralt’s heart, the slow thing that it is, jumps a beat or two.

* * *

A few days later they’re on a hunt, a village alderman asked Geralt to deal with a group of harpies that had been terrorizing them for weeks. The hunt itself isn’t really difficult, but the constant rain over the past few days made the terrain a lot harder to work with. Jaskier insists on going along, arguing Geralt hasn’t let him see enough of his work for him to get inspired recently.

Geralt deals with the harpies and they fall to his blade one by one, Jaskier waiting behind some bushes. The fight is over in no time and Geralt walks towards his bard, who’s already reciting inspired verses, when the ground gives away under Jaskier’s feet.

Geralt sees the whole thing in slow motion, Jaskier panicking as he begins to fall backwards. They’re on a small hill, not high enough for him to die from a fall, but enough for him to break an arm or a leg.

Geralt thanks his fast reflexes when he manages to catch Jaskier by the wrist and pulls him back to safety. They fall to the muddy ground, Jaskier on top of him. There’s a moment when they stare at each other’s eyes, before Geralt grunts and pushes him off.

“Wow! That was… that was a close call,” Jaskier exclaims doing his best to get some of the mud out of his clothes and failing at it. “Thank you, Geralt.”

The witcher sends a glare in his direction as he’s grabbing his discarded swords, when he notices the bloodstain on Jaskier’s sleeve.

“You’re bleeding,” he says reaching out to grab his hand.

He pulls back Jaskier’s sleeve only to find five small puncture wounds where his fingers dug into Jaskier’s skin to pull him back. The sight of it sends an immediate chill down his back. He did that. He hurt Jaskier…

“Oh, you must have… It’s nothing, a small thing,” he hears him say. “Worth it really, to avoid falling down that hill.”

But it’s not “nothing”. It’s him, causing someone else pain, like he always does. And hearing Jaskier try to diminish it only makes it worse. So, he does the only thing he knows how to do, he gets angry.

He chastises Jaskier for being reckless, stubborn, and clumsy. He’s rude and foolish, and he can’t stop himself even if he knows none of this was the bard’s fault.

Jaskier reads him like an open book though, he ignores the cruel jabs and talks back at him.

“… I don’t know why you’re making such a big fuzz. This scratch? It’ll be gone in a moment. It will likely leave a cool scar to remember this hunt by. People like scars, right? They give you character and such. Plus, they’ll remind me of you. Not that I need reminding,” he says fixing his lute on his shoulder and heading back to town.

Geralt follows, all traces of anger gone. He still hates himself for having hurt his friend - yes he has to admit that’s what they are now- but he can’t help to like the idea of Jaskier bearing a mark from him. Even if it was an accidental one. He does worry though, that this won’t be the last time he ends up hurting Jaskier.

* * *

They travel together for quite some time. The bard sings his praises and people have begun treating him better, offering him more jobs, and allowing him to sleep in town. Geralt is grateful, even if he never says as much.

Instead, he indulges Jaskier’s taste for sleeping indoors, making more regular stops along the road and giving him discreet practical gifts when he can.

He tries to be as normal as possible around him, some things always slip, but Jaskier never seems to mind. He looks happy and Geralt takes joy from that.

It isn't until the 7th or 8th time Jaskier falls into bed with someone while they're traveling and comes back to their room smelling like them - instantly putting him in a bad mood- that Geralt realizes he has a problem.

He has feelings for the bard...

He's been aware Jaskier finds him attractive from day one, of course. He reeked of it, but as much as Geralt wishes he could say that's all there is to it, he knows that's not true.

There's a delicate, tangible thing growing between them, with every touch, with every smile, every song... he feels himself falling in love with the young bard. And he knows once he loves someone, there's no escaping it.

Still, he does nothing. There might be something between them, but that doesn't mean it would work... Especially taking into consideration the fact that Geralt still hasn't let Jaskier see the true him, all those parts that no human could ever love.

So, he hides it, acts as if nothing has changed and does his very best not to react when that happens. Which in all fairness, is happening with less and less frequency. Jaskier seems to have eased up on the fucking and stuck to mostly harmless flirting. Geralt is both relieved and intrigued about it.

They meet on and off again, and Jaskier always looks happy to see him. Even if he is covered in selkiemore guts.

He helps him bathe which in a way is its own kind of torture. And Geralt relaxes under his hand so much that he almost purrs. Only no, that would be yet another weird witcher thing, so he holds it back.

Jaskier asks him to protect him at a fancy royal banquet. He hates the very idea of going, but of course, he ends up agreeing.

Jaskier is pleased and he is even more so when Geralt lets him brush his hair and dress him up in the stupidest outfit he could come up with. At least is a neutral color, he has to give him that. Black, he guesses, is something normal folks save for funerals, not engagement parties.

The party itself is a dull, volatile affair. Lots of posturing from everyone, including the queen. The only person more uncomfortable than Geralt in that room looks to be the princess herself.

He's reluctantly engaged in conversation with Mousesack when he sees Jaskier being caged in by a nobleman. He grunts and briskly walks over there as Jaskier is pushed against a stone pillar.

He gets in between them and can't help the threatening growl that comes out of his throat. The nobleman instantly freezes and backs away, not many people would be brave enough to face an angry witcher.

His scared reaction makes Geralt realize what has happened and he pulls back the semblance of normalcy. He comes up with a silly story about Jaskier losing his "family jewels " in an accident and the nobleman seems to believe it and thankfully leaves them alone. Only now Geralt has to deal with a smiling Jaskier looking awfully smug.

"I'm not even angry about that story that is bound to be gossip in a few minutes. But you... growled? For me?" Jaskier says leaning closer, trying to draw Geralt to meet his eye. "I'm touched."

Geralt goes from being ashamed to being confused. Jaskier doesn't care? In fact he seems pleased and the smell... He liked it. Which is something he doesn't have time to examine since the banquet goes to shit minutes later.

He makes a great mistake, he helps the young lovers, then says the wrong thing and destiny wraps her cruel claws around him yet again...

* * *

Jaskier finds him days later, by the lake. Geralt hasn't slept at all, his mind going back to the banquet, to their terrified faces upon finding out about the pregnancy, and the cruel idea of a child having their life bound to that of a witcher. He can't let that happen, hence the Djinn.  
  
But then Jaskier happens and Geralt, in his sleep-deprived state, says the wrong thing yet again and suddenly there's blood coming out of Jaskier's mouth. In hindsight, he should have noticed why it happened, but he was too terrified to think straight.  
  
He rides as fast as he can to reach a healer, only to find an elf who can't offer them any solutions. He does tell them where to find a mage though. Which is how they meet Yennefer...  
  
She's like a rose, beautiful but full of sharp edges and thorns.  
She's not afraid of him, not one bit, she knows what he is, what sort of magic and potions were used to make him. She knows and is not afraid, which is something he isn't used to. So Geralt is attracted to her of course, who wouldn't? But it's not the same as Jaskier, who he begs her to save.

She does, but not before charging a hefty prize that lands him in jail. Thankfully, he realizes he’s the one with the wishes and manages to get back to them in time. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Jaskier walking out of the house, back to normal, if a little rattled. Jaskier urges him to leave town, but it’s then that Geralt finally realizes Yennefer’s plan, what it will entail given that he’s the one with the wishes, and he can’t let her die like that.

Jaskier tries to stop him but Geralt won’t let him, he goes in and trades his wish for the sorceress’s life. Only he makes another mistake, bounding them together.

He thought maybe both of them could make it work, both being somewhat human, but not really. But needed yet feared by humans… He thought maybe with her, he wouldn’t have to fake normalcy, she would love just as he was and he would love her regardless of her chaos and their inability to have a family. They could fit together.

Unlike Jaskier, who Geralt wished could have a normal life where he wouldn’t always have to be in danger, where he could marry someone with human eyes, someone who could smile for him fully, without being careful not to show their sharp fangs… Someone who hadn’t almost accidentally killed him.

So, he falls in bed with Yennefer, both of them drawn together like they were always meant to be. It is magnificent and bittersweet, he lets go and finally falls asleep next to her, too tired to even think of the mess he has made with his poor choices.

When he gets out of the ruins hours later, before sunset, he finds Jaskier sitting next to Chireadan. He looks small and sad, and something twists in Geralt’s stomach.

“Are you alright?” he asks worried something went wrong while he was gone.

“I’m alright. Just thought you died there for a second… Anyway, can we go already?” Jaskier says standing up, not looking at him in the eye and walking away.

The elf gives him a nervous look and a shrug, and Geralt moves to follow after telling him to check on the sorceress when she wakes. He has to jog to catch up with Jaskier, who doesn’t even turn around to check he’s there.

He smells like bitter flowers, a sour smell that betrays his feelings. Still, he keeps quiet, normally he would be complaining about what happened, loudly… Now he’s just… bitter.

“Wait, Jaskier! Stop!” he says running ahead and stopping before Jaskier, blocking the way.

The bard stops, frowning, looking at the ground, the tree line, anywhere but at Geralt.

“What’s wrong?” the witcher asks.

“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s great!” Jaskier waving his arms widely. “I’m alive. You’re alive… It’s all just wonderful.”

“Is this about the wishes? I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I was the cause of all of this,” Geralt says, wanting to fix things somehow.

“I know! It’s not your fault, it’s fine. I wasn’t even worried! I knew you would fix it all along. I’m not mad. Can we just go?” Jaskier says pointing to the road, but Geralt stands his ground.

“Liar. You were terrified, I could smell it. And you smell bitter now!” Geralt says before he can stop himself.

Jaskier looks at him with wide eyes.

“I… smell bitter?” he asks slowly. Geralt nods.

Jaskier looks nervous now and Geralt hates himself for somehow making things worse with his monster-like traits. 

“Don’t… I’m not mad at you…” Jaskier says taking a step back. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day. Can we go back to the inn?”

Geralt nods again and they head towards town, where Jaskier had rented a room he never even used. Things go back to normal after that, Jaskier takes a bath to get all the blood off of him and they share a meal downstairs.

Jaskier doesn’t smell bitter when they rest in the room’s only bed, not even when Geralt wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer to make sure he’s safe.

* * *

Things change between them after that though… And Geralt isn’t sure it’s only because of Yennefer.

Their meetings are fleeting, always a quick thing that leaves both her and Geralt, feeling emptier than before. The secret of that gift weighs heavy on Geralt’s shoulders. He isn’t sure how to tell her, or if he even should.

Jaskier always smells bitter when he returns after seeing her. It doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize why it happens. It turns out Geralt is hurting everyone he cares about no, no matter what he does.

Still, Jaskier doesn’t leave, they keep finding their way to each other, they keep dancing about what grows between them. Geralt still teals glances and touches, he can’t help it. He still hides himself, he’s still afraid one day Jaskier will see him with the same eyes as those villagers to whom he is no different than the monsters he hunts.

Both Vesemir and his witcher brothers have told him, if the bard stayed this long, it’s unlikely that he’ll ever leave. But Geralt isn’t so sure.

“You can’t change what you are, Geralt. And he wouldn’t be a true friend if he didn’t accept that,” Vesemir said, with a look that left no doubt he knew of Geralt’s true feelings for the bard.

It was pointless though, Jaskier deserved better, in time he would see that. He would meet someone or go back to teach on Oxenfurt, leaving old Geralt behind.

He’s thinking such thoughts as he bathes in a river, when the smell of cooked meat reaches him. He dresses up and walks back to their camp to find Jaskier cutting up a freshly cooked rabbit.

“Oh, you’re back! I caught it while you were gone. I’ve gotten better at it,” he says with a proud smile. “Only I might have overcooked it a bit for your taste.”

Geralt hums and sits down on a log after hanging his washed clothes to dry. Jaskier comes over and gives him a plate with food. Geralt stares at it, thinking the bard’s words over.

“What do you mean “for my tastes”?” he asks.

“Hmm?” Jaskier says around a piece of meat.

“You said this was overcooked for my tastes, what does that mean?”

“Oh, well you know…” Jaskier says looking away with a faint blush on his cheeks. “You like your meat a little on the rare side.”

Geralt takes a second to process that frowning.

“Wait. Are you saying you’ve been eating undercooked meat all of this time and never said anything?!” he exclaims, horrified.

Jaskier rolls his eyes at him, as if Geralt didn’t just find out there’s one more odd thing about him that he couldn’t hide in time.

“I don’t mind it, really! And it’s hardly undercooked, just a little on the juicy side. It’s not like it’s given me a stomachache or anything,” Jaskier says shrugging.

Geralt is still bothered though. He’s thinking of their shared meals together. The ones in the inns were always more cooked, sure, but Geralt never really paid it much attention before. He should have, for the sake of his human companion.

He had learned to cook from Vesemir, it made sense he didn’t know better, but still…

“Hey, Geralt. I can see you overthinking this, don’t. I told you, I don’t mind,” Jaskier says, moving next to him and laying a hand on his knee. “But if it bothers you so much, next time you can cut some pieces for yourself first and I’ll eat the rest when it’s more roasted. How does that sound?”

Geralt looks back at him and Jaskier smiles reassuringly. He nods and wonders what he did to deserve such an understanding companion.

“Great! That’s settled, now eat before it gets cold.”

Geralt does, relishing in Jaskier’s presence next to him.

“Is it… is it a Witcher thing?” the bard asks later as they rest looking up at the blue sky. “The meat thing, I mean.”

Geralt hums, “I guess so. I only ever cooked for other witchers. During winter we take turns taking care of dinner.”

Jaskier smiles, leaning on his side, staring at him.

“I wish I could meet them, your brothers in arms. I bet they would have lots of stories to tell. I don’t mean for songwriting inspiration, I am loyal to you,” Jaskier says making Geralt’s heart skip a beat. “But just to… get to know your family.”

He says it with a smile, but there’s also a sad longing in his voice. They’ve been parting ways every winter, first because Geralt wouldn’t trust the bard with the secrets of his ancestral home, but now… he trusts Jaskier with his life.

“You could come home with me this winter,” he finds himself saying. “If you wanted… Kaer Morhen is not Oxenfurt. It’s cold and dreary, but…”

“Yes! I would love to!” Jaskier interrupts him with a bright smile on his face. “if you’ll have me, I would love to meet them.”

Geralt can’t help but smile at his bard’s enthusiasm, then remembers his fangs and looks back down.

“Hey, don’t…” says Jaskier lifting his cheek back up with a gentle hand. “Don’t hide them. I love seeing you smile, sharp fangs and all. They are very… you.”

Geralt isn’t sure what to say to that, he isn’t even sure he could speak if he wanted, so he simply nods.

Jaskier fixes a loose strand away from Geralt’s eyes and smiles. He looks young and relaxed, it makes Geralt want to believe that maybe he could make him happy. Maybe he could be enough…

“You’re wonderful, my witcher,” Jaskier says with affection, turning back down to rest on his back as if he didn’t just take the other’s breath away.

“Thank you,” Geralt manages.

* * *

Things improve between them for a while. Geralt relaxes a little bit more around Jaskier. He lets himself be and the bard never seems close to rejecting him. He’s even extremely smug about getting Geralt to purr in contentment as he brushed his hair after one very messy hunt. Things were good… until the dragon hunt.

He didn’t intend to join the party, hunting dragons was not something witchers do, but the moment Yen walked in, he knew he had to. Jaskier was bitter of course, but Geralt could tell he was also secretly excited with the prospect of seeing a real dragon.

During the climb though, he couldn’t help but gravitate towards Yennefer once more, and when tragedy struck he fell into the sorceress bed, instead of listening to his bard’s words of trips of self-discovery to the coast. He thought maybe he could make it work, for a minute there he even believed it… but then he opened his mouth and let out the truth about the wish. And just like that, it was over.

He understood why Yennefer couldn’t trust what they felt for each other, he really did, but it still hurt when she turned around and disappeared. He’d been rude and unnecessarily cruel to her. He couldn’t blame her.

Instead, he turned on Jaskier, who only tried to cheer him up. He said terrible things, blamed him for all that had happened, the child of surprise, the djinn… It wasn’t fair, Jaskier said as much but Geralt couldn’t stop himself, asking for him to be taken off his hands for good.

He saw the pain and disappointment in Jaskier’s eyes and turned away to stare down the mountain.

“Right. Uh… Right, then I’ll go get the rest of the story from the others. See you around, Geralt,” said Jaskier walking away and leaving a scent of bitterness behind.

Geralt took a deep breath, felt the burning of the cold mountain air in his lungs. He felt like a monster more than he ever did before. He must have stayed in that mountain for hours, thinking of all the things he could have done differently. Predictably, it wasn’t Yen the one he felt worse about, but the bard.

In that cold mountain top, he realized that even if he and Yennefer were bound by destiny and made a good team, the truth was they barely knew each other, they never let their guard down no matter how close they were.

And even if he loved her in a way, they just… didn’t fit together. Not right then, while they were both searching for something else. But more importantly, the fact that Yen comprehended what he was, what he could do, didn’t mean she understood or accepted him in the way Jaskier did. No one had ever cared for him like that before and now he had driven him away with his indecision and cold words. 

“You’ve been sulking here all day, Geralt,” says Borch standing behind him as the sun begins to set. He hadn’t realized that much time had passed.

“Much to think about,” Geralt says turning around and gathering up his things. “And I wasn’t sulking… I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

“Have you figured out what you truly need, witcher?” the old dragon says with a knowing smile.

“I… I think so. But I don’t know how to fix things…” Geralt admits, looking at the road leading down the mountain.

“Oh, I’m sure you will figure it out when you reach him. You should hurry though, there are bruxae and other vampire kind living in caves down the mountain. Caves where a lonely bard might rest the night…” Borch says, smiling once Geralt runs down in a hurry without a single word. He can’t really blame him, young love and all that.

Geralt runs as fast as he can without risking breaking his neck in a fall. The sun is settling rapidly and Jaskier’s trail is quickly fading. He mustn’t lose it.

The sun has gone down by the time he manages to spot a couple of places where Jaskier clearly took a fall and his heart clenches tight when he follows his tracks to one of the caves Borch warned him about. Jaskier, so very human, couldn’t have scented the clearly inhuman smell coming out of it or have spotted the eerie drops of blood all over the path leading to the cave, not in the dark at least.

Geralt quickly swallows a Black Blood and a Cat potion, and haltingly coats his silver sword with Vampire oil. He drops everything else and runs inside the cave.

He finds Jaskier not too far inside the cave, held in the arms of a bruxa, her sharp claws clutching his arm and her mouth clamped over his left shoulder. She’s so focused on the taste of her victim that she doesn’t hear Geralt run towards them until it’s too late. He grabs Jaskier, pulls him back and swings his sword, cutting off the bruxa’s head in one blow.

Geralt turns to Jaskier, patting him over, checking for more wounds.

“Jas, are you alright?!”

Jaskier blinks awake from whatever trance the vampire had put him under, shaking his head in confusion.

“Geralt? What…? Why are you here?” he says taking a step back.

The doubt and hurt in his eyes feel like a knife through the witcher’s heart.

Geralt wants to explain, to apologize, but Jaskier sees something behind him, his hands reaching for Geralt’s arm in fear.

He turns around and sees six more bruxae coming out of the tunnels further inside the cave, quickly approaching them.

Geralt growls, showing his fangs and arranging his stance.

“Get out, Jaskier,” he says.

“But…”

“Out! Run!” he says before launching himself against the vampires.

He doesn’t remember much of the fight, he was outnumbered, but the fury he felt and his desire to protect his bard drove him into a fierce frenzy. He slashed, bit and kicked his way through them. In a manner of minutes, he’s standing over their lifeless bodies, breathing hard. In the back of his mind, he knows he’s drenched in blood, high with potions and likely looking over all terrifying. But all he can think about is checking on Jaskier, so he walks out to find him standing by the cave’s entrance, looking into the darkness nervously.

Seeing the way blood runs down his shoulder, staining his elegant duvet has Geralt’s own blood boiling, and some deep animal instinct takes over.

“Geralt! I thought they would…” says Jaskier before he’s embraced by Geralt, who holds him as close as he can, burying his claws on his back and his face on his neck.

Geralt can’t stop himself, he hates the way Jaskier smells, of fear and blood, and that damn vampire. So, he rubs his face against Jaskier’s in the way an affectionate cat would. A low growl comes out of his throat when Jaskier tries to take a step back, making the bard stop in his tracks.

“Oh… alright. This is just… Wow! Now, that’s not…” Jaskier exclaims when Geralt licks the puncture wounds on his shoulder. “Geralt, as nice as this is, I need you to let go and talk to me, alright? Cause I was under the impression that you never wanted to see me again.”

Geralt holds him tighter, closing his eyes and breathing the bard’s familiar scent to try to calm down.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I didn’t…” he whispers against Jaskier’s ear. “I was wrong. So wrong.”

He feels Jaskier take a deep breath, then exhale loudly.

“I know,” he says, wrapping his arms around Geralt, not caring about the blood soaking his outfit. “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m not mad, just… hurt.”

“I’m sorry. I… I’m a monster, Jaskier. I keep hurting everyone that gets close to me. I don’t want to hurt you too. But I don’t want you to leave either.”

“Oh, dear, no. You’re not a monster, Geralt,” Jaskier says, finally managing to put some distance between them and gently hold Geralt’s face in his hands.

Geralt wants to look away, his mouth still has blood on it and his eyes must be black from the potions. He doesn’t want to be seen like this, but Jaskier doesn’t let go and instead runs a kind hand over Geralt’s cheek.

“Don’t you know, my dear? How much I love you…” says Jaskier looking at him as if he’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“I don’t… I don’t deserve it,” Geralt whispers. “You deserve a normal life, someone human by your side, not… me.”

“That’s my choice to make. And I chose you, Geralt of Rivia, a witcher. You, with your beautiful yellow eyes, your soft white hair… everything about you is beautiful to me. All the human and nonhuman parts. I don’t want normal, Geralt. You know me better than that! I’d be at home, at court if I did. I want you. I want to travel with you for as long as you’ll let me,” Jaskier says with a soft smile on his face.

Geralt doesn’t know what to say, but he’s sure he’s blushing furiously by now. He sends a silent thanks to whoever is listening that it’s dark enough that Jaskier won’t notice, or he would never hear the end of it.

“I want you too…” he finally says.

“Oh? But I thought you… What about Yen?” Jaskier says taking a step back, making Geralt instantly miss his warmth.

“It won’t work between us. I… I made a mistake bounding us with magic. I thought… we would be better suited for each other. But it wasn’t fair to her, to me, to you… I’m sorry.”

Jaskier nods slowly, thoughtful.

“Is there a way to break the bond?”

“I don’t know. With another djinn perhaps? If anyone can find a way, it’s Yen. But… this thing I feel for her, it doesn’t compare o what I feel for you,” he admits, wanting to erase all doubts from his bard’s mind.

It’s hard, talking about his emotions, but he’s trying because he knows he almost messed things up without repair.

Jaskier smiles at him, all traces of fear and hurt gone.

“Look at us, talking about our feelings like mature people,” he teases, putting his hands over Geralt’s shoulders and looking at him with nothing but affection in his eyes. “I would kiss you if it weren’t for all the…”

“Blood?” Geralt says, allowing himself to smile.

“Yes, exactly. Oh! I’m not going to turn into a vampire now am I?” Jaskier asks, touching the puncture wounds on his shoulder.

“No, that’s not how it works,” Geralt says, running a hand over the wound. “But we should both get cleaned up. Let’s go find Roach and make camp, alright?”

Jaskier smiles at him and nods, taking his hand on his as they resume walking down the mountain, aid by Geralt’s better night vision.

They set camp not far from a river where Geralt goes to wash away the bloody mess. Jaskier changes into some clean clothes and fishes some leftover dried meats and nuts from their packs.

He stands up the second Geralt comes back to camp and kisses him, taking the witcher by surprise. Geralt does eventually manage to return it, wrapping his arms around his bard and pulling him close. They’re breathing hard once they part and Jaskier looks at him with affection.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long!” he says smiling and running his fingers through Geralt’s hair.

"Hmm... I know..."  
  
"I wasn't very subtle, was I? Not with those sharp senses of yours," Jaskier chuckles.  
  
"It was torture. I’ve wanted this for a long time too... I hated it every time you came back to me smelling of someone else," Geralt growls, pressing his lips against Jaskier's warm skin.  
  
"Oh... That's... You want me to smell only of you, my dear?" he teases pulling back to look into Geralt's bright golden eyes with a wicked grin. "I think we can fix that right now."  
  
They spend the rest of the night wrapped in each other's arms and Geralt doesn't want to ever let go of him again.

  
  
  
  
In the morning Geralt hugs his still sleepy bard, rubbing his cheek to Jaskier's with affection.  
  
"I think I should go find my child of surprise," he whispers, afraid of the bard's reaction. "Then maybe we could go to the coast together, like you said we should..."  
  
"I... Are you sure? You don't have to, just because..." Jaskier says turning in his arms to face him.  
  
"I want to. Then, when winter comes around, I could finally take you to Kaer Morgen. And you can meet my family... If you still want to," he says running a hand through Jaskier's messy morning hair.  
  
The bard smiles brightly, smelling of happiness and comfort.  
  
"I would love that, my dear," he says before kissing him senseless.  
  


* * *

  
  
They have a harder time than anticipated finding Ciri, but they do eventually find each other, in the middle of the woods. Her hair is messy and her clothes are torn, but she's safe and that's all that matters.  
  
Jaskier loves her, she recognized him from all the times he visited court without telling Geralt, and they get along like birds of a feather. It makes him love the bard even more, if that's even possible.  
  
They go to the beach after finding a very tired and wounded Yennefer. Ciri will need her help with magic, and her love as a mother... And things are different now that he and Jaskier are together. He feels the pull of magic but they both agree to remain friends and do their best to help Ciri grow to be as happy, brave, and safe as possible. Yen and Jaskier also put aside their differences and become fast friends. It's scary but nice in a way.  
  
They all travel home for winter, Geralt is mighty nervous climbing that mountain. But Jaskier takes his hand and smiles, and he breaths a little easier.  
  
Turns out he need not worry, because all his friends and family fit together as if they always knew each other. Vesemir and his brother witchers all dote on little Ciri, helping with her training. And Yen comes and goes as she pleases, knowing there will always be a place for her there.  
  
Jaskier is thrilled to hear all the stories from other witchers and loves to perform for them each night after dinner. Lulling the pack of wolves to sleep or singing the raunchiest song he can come up with -after Ciri went to bed of course- getting bright laughter out of his loud brothers. They love him, they tell him so, ruffling his hair and roughing him up. Jaskier smiles at him, silently asking for help, Geralt only smiles back.  
  
Jaskier doesn't ever smell bitter again, he never fears him or the other witchers in any way, no matter how weird their behavior gets, and he loves him for who he is, all of him. Geralt couldn't be happier, he knows that whatever comes their way in the future, they'll be able to face it together.


End file.
